On the Naughty List

by Lori Foster

  Maya whipped around so fast, she nearly strangled herself with the seat harness. “G told you about Charlie, too? Jeez, did she give you a tally of my financial assets? A rundown of my social calendar?”

  “Don’t get bent.”

  “I’m not … Okay. I’m bent. Why would she blab about Charlie?”

  “I asked if you were seeing anyone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was curious. Damn, Maya. Do I have to spell it out?”

  Her heart pounded up into her throat, choking her silent. She stared at Zach’s hard profile. Saw him work his jaw as if searching for words himself. She swiped off her merrymaking cap as her temperature shot through the roof. “That mistletoe kiss,” she ventured.

  “Wasn’t half the kiss I wanted it to be,” Zach finished. “I needed to know if my recent yearnings had merit. If I kissed you would I feel a spark?”

  “Did you?”

  He slid off his shades and glanced over, his gaze injected with a heady dose of lust. “I don’t know what to do with this … attraction, Maya. Scratch the itch? Ignore it? You tell me.”

  “Pull over.”

  “What?”

  She wretched off her gloves. Were her fingers smoking? “Pull over, Zach!” Her body burned as though thoroughly torched. She whipped off her scarf and was working the buttons of her coat when he peeled into an unplowed lot. She saw a silo and a crumbling barn and, beyond, a broken house. Abandoned or neglected, she didn’t know. Didn’t care. She saw no vehicles. No trucks. No tractors. No animals.

  No signs of life.

  She unbuckled her seat belt, pushed open the door … and took a header in a snowdrift in her haste to escape the suffocating Hummer. She heard Zach call her name, shook off the impact of the fall, and trudged toward the barn.

  “Dammit, Maya! What the hell?”

  “Don’t curse,” she yelled over her shoulder. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

  “I know what day it is! What are you … Damn, woman,” he shouted when she shrugged off her coat. “You’ll catch your death!”

  How was it, she wondered, that the snow didn’t melt in her wake? Flames of passion licked at her soul, her mind. She burst into the dilapidated barn thinking she should slow down if she wanted Zach to catch her. His bum leg had him at a disadvantage. That one sane thought stopped her in her tracks. She turned … and practically slammed into Zach. How had he moved so fast?

  “I’m sorry if I shocked you,” he said, leaning on his cane while holding her discarded coat in his free hand. “I should have kept my feelings to myself. I should have—”

  Maya launched herself at her oldest friend, backing him into one of several stables. The cane and coat dropped to the ground as Zach caught her in his arms. Wrapped around his hunky body like garland, Maya kissed him with a year’s worth of pent-up passion.

  Zap!

  The connection was electric. Lust surged through Maya with a force that struck her dizzy. Light-headed, she stumbled back, stunned by the intense and heady sensation.

  Zach jammed a hand through his hair, his expression stuck between shocked and pained. “I expected a punch in the shoulder.”

  “Are you sorry I kissed you?”

  “I’m sorry you stopped.”

  “Did I hurt your leg?”

  “You coldcocked my heart.”

  Seduced off her feet, Maya flew back into his arms, picking up where she’d left off—kissing Zach senseless. She told herself to take it slow this time, but her need was fierce, striking her stupid and clumsy. She tilted her head left when she should have tilted right. She bumped his nose, clipped his chin. The openmouthed kiss was more teeth than tongue, and in her zeal she bit his lip, causing him to wince. Mortified, she dropped back.

  “Okay. This is beyond awkward,” she said. “I mean, I know how to kiss. Ask anyone. Well, not anyone. It’s not like I’ve kissed everyone. Only a select few, but they’d tell you. Charlie would tell you. I’m one heck of a kisser. Usually. Just not today. Particularly not with you. Maybe that’s a sign. Maybe—”

  “Maya.”

  “What?”

  “Shut up.”

  Zach closed in, and if he limped she didn’t notice. Mostly she was aware of his raging aura. Focus. Drive. Confidence. He didn’t falter when he took her in his arms. But she did. Her knees fairly buckled when he palmed the side of her face. He was definitely making a move. She just wished he’d hurry. The anticipation was brutal.

  “Don’t act,” Zach said in a hypnotic, sexy tone. “React.”

  He kissed her then. A soft kiss that tickled her senses, a kiss that teased of something wondrous. Oh yes, on a scale of one to ten, ten being perfect, this kiss was a twelve. Maybe even a twenty. Maya melted against Zach’s hard body and gave over to his sexy expertise. She responded to his touch, followed his lead, and suddenly they were making out like two star-crossed lovers intent on breaking all odds.

  As his hand skimmed under her thermal tee and spanned her bare back, Maya envisioned her latest fantasy coming true: getting naked with Zachery Cole.

  Merry Christmas to me.

  She trembled with urgency, shivered in anticipation.

  Zach eased away with a buzzkill of a frown. “This won’t work.”

  Her stomach dropped to her toes. Not counting the awkward mistletoe peck, she’d fumbled their first two kisses and bombed on the third. “In other words, I don’t light your fire.”

  Without a word, Zach pressed against her, contradicting her assumption. Her brain glitched with the knowledge that Zach was hard.

  For me.

  “So, um, what’s the problem?’ she asked, cursing the hitch in her voice.

  Zach snatched her coat off the ground, shook out the snow, dirt, and straw, then wrapped it around her shoulders. “It’s twenty degrees, if that. You ditched your coat, scarf, and gloves. Your hat. You might as well be naked.”

  “That’s what I was shooting for.”

  His mouth crooked with the hint of a smile. “You thought we were going to do the nasty in a barn?”

  “Can’t say I was thinking at all. I was acting on impulse. As for the cold, I didn’t notice.” She wiggled against his erection and shimmed onto an emotional limb. “I’m hot for you, too.”

  “Since when?”

  “I couldn’t say, specifically.”

  “Generally.”

  She blushed, shrugged.

  “Around the time you started reading my letters to Giselle?”

  “Somewhere around there.”

  “Maya.”

  “What?”

  “Giselle’s not partial to marmalade. You are.” He grasped her chin when she tried to look away. “Considering Giselle and I hit it off long-distance, I was puzzled by the total disconnect in person. Something tells me that’s because it wasn’t Giselle who captured my interest in the first place.”

  Maya squirmed, feeling trapped and jealous and all kinds of awkward. “G sent you several sexy photos of herself. She definitely captured your interest. I believe you penned the words ‘smoking hot’ and ‘stunning.’”

  “I’m not looking at Giselle right now. I’m looking at you. ‘Smoking hot’ and ‘stunning’ still apply—even in a reindeer sweater. Add to that ‘sweet and engaging’ and top it off with ‘enigmatic.’

  “It wasn’t Giselle who explored my fascination with astronomy and fast cars,” he went on. “It was you. Giselle didn’t tell me about her dream trip to Hawaii. She didn’t tease me with a fantasy that involved us licking marmalade from each other’s bodies. That was you.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, searching her face and making her flesh prickle with unease. “Why the pretense, Maya?”

  Busted and embarrassed, she swung away. “I was going through my scrapbook. Giselle saw a picture of you. Instant infatuation,” she blurted. “She wanted to strike up a flirtatious exchange and I thought, what the heck? I mean I knew you’d be physically attracted to her. All men are. She’s a knockout. Only she had troub
le penning conversational notes and asked for my help. I thought … That is, I wanted to provide you with a romantic distraction. Something fun and exciting, something to dwell on other than the danger and horrific situations you faced on a daily basis. At first I just embellished some of her thoughts, but then, well, I got sort of inspired by your responses.”

  “You mean turned-on?”

  “I’ve always liked you, Zach. A lot. As a person. A friend. But then I got a glimpse of your sexy side and I got caught up and carried away with the fantasy. As if that wasn’t enough, you charmed me with a few tender tales. It was that story about the dog you rescued, that picture, that did me in. I don’t think I was fully aware of the impact it had on me until I saw you in person last night.”

  Leaning against a wooden pole, he massaged the back of his neck.

  Fighting a chill now, Maya shoved her arms in her coat. “Are you angry?”

  “Intrigued.”

  She fumbled a buttonhole and risked his gaze. “So we might still do it? You know. Fool around?”

  “Make love?” Zach chuckled under his breath, shook his head. “How could I know you for so long and not know you at all?”

  “You know me. Mostly. Just not my sensuous side.”

  “Speaking of … Where do you stand with Charlie?”

  Talk about a buzzkill. She continued to button her coat. “At an impasse.” Was Zach trying to shove another man between them? Or was this Zach’s way of making sure he wasn’t treading on another man’s turf? Not wanting to muddy waters, she answered directly. “He wants to marry me and I’m not crazy about the idea.”

  “Not ready to settle down?”

  “I’m ready.” She’d been restless all year, anxious for her happily ever after. There had to be more to life than work. As much as she loved Cupcakes & Dreamscapes, the thriving business no longer filled her every need. She wanted more. A husband and kids. A family of her own. But not with Charlie Banks.

  “Giselle described Charlie as a nice guy. Good job. Worships the ground you walk on. What’s the problem?”

  “I never wanted to get naked in a freezing-cold barn with Charlie.” Her words had been heated, yet Zach iced over. She saw it. Sensed it.

  His phone rang.

  He eyed the screen, then answered. “Hi, Uncle Dan. … No. I wasn’t aware. How far out?” Zach checked his watch. “We’ll beat it. No worries. It’s not like Marx is going to invite us in for a Christmas feast, right?… You take care, too. I’ll check in later. … Yeah. Bye.”

  “What is it?” Maya asked as Zach thumbed through apps on his Android.

  “A blizzard’s blowing in.”

  “More snow on top of what we got yesterday?”

  “According to the Weather Channel, an estimated twelve inches.” Zach pocketed his phone and retrieved his cane.

  Maya followed him out of the barn, mindful now of the freezing wind and a landscape already blanketed with several inches of glistening snow. The main roads had been adequately plowed. The back roads were another story. If this new storm hit hard and fast some of the mountain roads would be perilous, if not impossible. Yes, Zach’s Hummer was reliable, a veritable monster that ate up rough terrain. But what about if they got stuck? She thought about the physical aspect of digging or pushing their way out. Not knowing the full extent of Zach’s injuries, she had to wonder what kind of toll that exertion would have on his body.

  As if reading her mind, Zach glanced down at his cane as he opened the door for her. “If you’re worried about me keeping you safe, I can take you back to Sugar Creek.”

  “I trust you to keep me safe, Zach.” It was him she was worried about, but she stifled that thought, knowing it would hurt his pride. “If I’m concerned about anyone it’s Roscoe Marx. He sacrificed who knows how much for our country. The least I can do is weather a storm for him.” She buckled in and met Zach’s gaze. “I don’t care if he’s the grumpiest cuss in Franklin County. Roscoe Marx deserves some Christmas cheer.”

  Zach leaned in then and brushed his mouth over hers. “You’re killing me, Maya.”

  A barely there kiss, yet she felt it to her toes. “Back at you, Zach.”

  Chapter Eight

  It blew in out of nowhere. A massive, blinding snowstorm.

  “Son of a b.” Zach kicked up his windshield wipers.

  Maya dialed down the volume of the radio. A bouncy version of “Let It Snow” faded to background as fat swirling flakes obscured the mountainous landscape. “I thought you said the storm was several hours out.”

  “That’s what Dan said and that’s what I saw on the forecast.” What the hell?

  “Maybe there’s an update on the local news station.” She scanned the radio but was stonewalled by static.

  Up until now, reception had been fine. “Storm interference,” Zach guessed as Maya continued to search. She’d even lost the station they’d been listening to for the last hour.

  Rather than hashing out what had happened between them in the barn, they’d tuned into a station featuring holiday classics. A mutual distraction while searching their souls. Did they or did they not want to pursue this attraction? More was at stake than scratching an itch and “doing it.” Their friendship. The future.

  Maya had given Zach a lot to absorb. She had written those sexy, engaging letters. She was hot for him, a wounded, unemployed former sniper. Not Charlie, the successful real-estate agent and Orlando-based pacifist. She was ready to settle down, which meant a home and family, and as near as Zach could tell, he was her prime target. It blew his mind on so many levels, he hadn’t had a clear thought in an hour.

  Now they were in the midst of a freak storm and he was suddenly razor sharp. Senses primed, he accessed the situation. Their position, their supplies. His goal was straightforward: Keep Maya safe. “Check the weather on your phone app.”

  “Okay. Wait. Oh no.” She frowned at the screen. “Seriously?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “No signal.”

  Zach passed her his Android. “Try mine.”

  “Yeah. Okay. Not a superstrong signal, but it’s something.”

  “What’s it say?”

  “This can’t be right.”

  “What’s it say, Maya?”

  “That the storm’s still several miles south of here.”

  That couldn’t be right.

  “I don’t want to worry Uncle Dan,” he said to Maya. “Call Giselle. Ask her what’s happening weather-wise in Sugar Creek.”

  Zach half-listened to Maya making the call, the bulk of his focus on the inclement weather and worsening conditions. Surrounded by snow-laden trees, they were on unpaved terrain now. An old logging road a quarter way up Thrush Mountain. Closer to Roscoe Marx’s cabin than to Sugar Creek by far. No sense in turning back. Better to push on and take shelter.

  “No snow at all?” Maya exclaimed. “Yeah. … Okay. … No. We’re fine. Just checking in. So … are you having fun with Adam?” she asked in a near whisper. “Wow. No, I mean, great. … Yeah. We’ll see you at dinner. Can’t wait.” She disconnected and glanced to the skies. “Please, God, don’t strike me down.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not really looking forward to seeing G with Adam. It sounds like they really hit it off. She’s having a blast. No complications. No concerns. Why is it always so easy for her?”

  “Maybe it’s because she doesn’t run as deep as you.”

  “There’s more to G than meets the eye.”

  “You don’t have to defend your friend to me, Maya. That wasn’t a judgment on her personality. Just saying some people are more sensitive than others. Life’s harder for those who wear their hearts on their sleeves.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You do. That’s why I’m reluctant to make love to you.” He hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but there it was. “I’m not ready for where it would lead. And I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Why does it have to lead anyw
here?” she said, sounding annoyed. “Why can’t it just be great sex? Scratch the itch, as you put it. Satisfy our curiosity and then go back to being friends.”

  “You’re not built like that and you know it. Hell, I’m not built like that. Not when it comes to you.”

  He shouldn’t have kissed her. He should have buried his impulses and ignored the mounting sexual tension. Instead, he’d indulged and now he was paying the price. He was pretty sure he loved Maya in a way that promised, or at least threatened, heartbreak. If he gave in to this, if he committed his all, and if he ever lost her … If she fell prey to an ailment or accident or, worse, malicious harm … He didn’t think he could handle that.

  He’d always thought himself impervious—until Ben had been cut down in front of his eyes. Not only had Zach failed to protect his partner; he’d been unable to save him. Worse, he’d been unable to carry the man’s lifeless body safely down the mountain.

  “Now I know what Helen and Giselle meant by ‘broody,’” Maya said. “You’re doing it now. Brooding. If the thought of sleeping with me troubles you so deeply—”

  “For God’s sake, Maya. I shoot people for a living.”

  “Bad people,” she clarified. “And not anymore.”

  “Whether those soldiers or terrorists were bad depends on whose side you’re on. And just because I’m retired, that doesn’t erase my past. What I’ve seen. What I’ve done. As for the future … I can’t promise I won’t pursue an equally deadly profession. Or at least one that involves some form of violence. Do you really want to be a part of that? To live with that on a daily basis? You wouldn’t be able to stomach it. Not even the thought of it. One of us has to be the realist here.”

  “I’m going to ignore the fact that you just pegged me as a flaky wimp and focus on your military background. You did what you did in order to protect civilians from harm. To combat evil. The intent would be the same if you were a policeman or security officer or, heck, a bodyguard.”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life. That’s part of the problem.”

  “You’re welcome to stay with me in Orlando while you figure it out.”